Melody was grinning as they walked away from the cell block. "You handled that well. I didn’t even know you could be that scary. But this way, there’s no lasting damage."

"I would have preferred not to be in a cell in the first place," Lukas said.

"You antagonized him in your first meeting, so you’re the one who created this whole thing in the first place," Akira pointed out, her tone carrying no particular judgment about it.

"I know." He didn’t dispute it. "But think about what he told us himself. It shows that he enjoys having power over people."

"If I had backed down in that first meeting, he wouldn’t have stopped there. He would have kept pushing and kept finding small ways to make things difficult, until eventually I did something worse than this. Like attacking him."

He glanced at them both. "Trust me. This is the best outcome we can get out of this."

Melody considered it. "I suppose that’s true."

"It’s definitely true," Akira chuckled. "I could barely stop myself from punching his smug face when he started taunting Lukas."

They made their way to the lounge and found seats near the window.

Without their notice, the landscape outside had changed overnight with the flat grassland giving way to rolling terrain with the hills sloping up and down, and the occasional cluster of trees in the horizon.

The day passed without incident.

Boaz appeared in the afternoon, moving through the lounge with a guilty expression on his face.

He walked to them the moment he spotted them.

"I heard what happened," he said, before any greeting. "That arrest shouldn’t have happened, and that’s a failing on my part."

"Boaz—"

Boaz kept speaking. "I want you to know that my guard confirmed the payment was made, which means someone interfered with the record deliberately."

He straightened. "I will be finding out who and making sure it is dealt with appropriately."

"It’s resolved," Lukas said. "There’s no need—"

"There is every need," Boaz said firmly, finally channeling the steel of a young master. "Good day."

He left before Lukas could say anything else.

Akira watched him go. "I like him more than I expected to."

"Yeah," Melody chuckled. "He’s becoming more decisive than I thought he was capable of being."

Akira turned to Lukas. "He must have learnt it from his teacher."

Lukas groaned. "Please don’t."

"We’ll try not to." Melody chuckled.

Time passed and they had lunch, and before long, they had dinner.

The light outside the windows faded and the dark came in around the train, the interior lamps lighting up and providing illumination.

Time passed, and with midnight fast approaching, Lukas found himself standing in front of the door of the bunk room, the cloth mask tied in place.

He turned to look back at his wives, and they looked back at him.

"Same as last night," Melody said. "Come back."

"I will," he said.

He opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

As he made his way to carriage 122, he realized how quiet the corridors were.

This time, he didn’t meet any patrol officers, which meant the journey was quick.

When he arrived at the door, he presented his card to the cloaked guards, and was allowed inside.

The room had been rearranged entirely from the previous night.

Sixteen tables ran in a straight line down the center of the carriage, each one with two chairs positioned opposite each other.

The colored tiles were gone and the floor had been returned to normal. And of course, the ceiling had no fiery numbers.

Other players were already present, most of them standing along the walls, studying the tables as if they could see what the next game would be just by staring at it.

Lukas scanned the room before his eyes landed on Trent.

The man stood near the far wall with his arms folded, doing the same assessment as everyone else.

He looked up a moment later and his eyes found Lukas immediately. His hand came up in a wave.

Lukas crossed the room, accepting the inevitability of it.

"You made it back," Trent said, with genuine satisfaction. "That’s good."

"You too," Lukas said. He looked at the tables. "Any idea what this is?"

Trent followed his gaze. "Well, I have an idea but I don’t think that’s it."

"Well, let’s hear it."

"In the version I played, when they set tables and chairs in the room, we were all given a deck of numbered cards. Each player would select a card, and you had to guess whether your opponent’s card was an even or odd number. The player with the fewest correct guesses at the end was killed."

"And you think this will be different?"

"They wouldn’t repeat the same game so quickly," Trent said. "The people who run these events understand that returning players would have an advantage over first-timers if the format repeated, so they deliberately change it."

He glanced at the tables again. "Whatever this is, we’ll all be finding out at the same time."

The last few players filtered in over the following minutes, and the Adept aura arrived before the door opened.

The temperature dropped, and the entire room tensed.

The door opened and the conductor entered.

He walked to the head of the long line of tables without acknowledgment of the thirty-two people watching him.

Then he gestured, and a throne rose from the floor at the head of the room, assembled from nothing in the span of a few seconds.

The conductor sat.

"Welcome to the second round," he said. "This round is called the Negotiations."

The room was completely silent.

"Each player will receive ten coins and ten grapes. You will also receive a hidden objective, known only to you. Your task is to negotiate with the player seated across from you, with the goal of achieving your objective."

He paused, his eyes sweeping over them.

"For this round, you have ten minutes."

"If both parties fail to reach an agreement before the time expires, both players die." The conductor’s voice was flat.

"If a player fails to meet the conditions of their hidden objective by the end of the negotiations, that player dies."

"Now," the conductor looked across the line of tables, "find your seats."